


Intimidation and Innocence

by Game_of_Wolves



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Actually Littlefinger is also his own warning, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Joffrey Baratheon is his own warning, North America is Westeros, Older Man/Younger Woman, This is probably weird I'm sorry in advance, don't hate me plz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-07 00:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15207167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Game_of_Wolves/pseuds/Game_of_Wolves
Summary: Sansa Stark is staying in New York for the Summer with Margaery and Loras Tyrell. When she meets a mysterious man in a hotel lobby she expects that it's the weirdest thing that will happen to her during her vacation.However, that's never how life works, is it?





	1. I Wasn't Running

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This is my first fic, so it's probably not going to be that great. Updates will be irregular but fairly frequent (three-four days at most without an update). I plan to continue this fic for a while unless it gets bad and too weird to continue, in which case I will stop this one and start a new one. Anyway enough rambling, on to the story.

It was a beautiful day in New York City. At least, Sansa thought so. She was spending her summer in Manhattan before returning home to Colorado to continue work.

The Stark company had legally fallen into the hands of Sansa when Robb and her mother had been poisoned. Joffrey Baratheon, the boss-to-be of the Lannister/Baratheon company, had previously murdered her father for believing that he wasn't going to be fit to lead his late best friend's company. That was back when it was planned that Sansa would marry Joffrey, to create an unstoppable political alliance. That was one of the first major examples of the Lannisters using their extreme power; they managed to get Joffrey off clean, much to the horror of the Starks. Catelyn, Arya and Sansa quickly fled back to their home in Vail, Colorado. 

A year after, when Robb and Catelyn were at a wedding dinner (to which Sansa and the rest of the family were flying to at the time) for Robb's wedding, they were horribly poisoned and died shortly after. The Starks blamed it largely on the Lannisters, but no evidence was found against them.

Thus, the company was now legally Sansa's, since Jon was considered illegitimate by her mother. However, Sansa didn't want to run the entire company alone, so she authorized Jon's claim to half of the company and since then they worked together.

A good part of the U.S. supported Stark power. A part which was shrinking due to the threats of the Boltons and Freys, and naturally, the Lannisters. However, the Starks were still a respected family and widely known for their honor. They still had control of most of the mountain region.

(so if you're confused, the Lannisters are mostly based in New York, the Starks in Colorado, the Martells in Florida, etc. Also, instead of houses they're companies.)

Her best friend, Margaery, had invited her to stay with her and Loras in New York for the summer. Sansa was reluctant to leave Jon to fend for the family, especially to go to New York, the home of the Lannister/Baratheon company, but both Jon and Margaery had assured her that it would be fine and encouraged her to take a while off.

Sansa was walking down the street, heading back to Margaery’s, enjoying her calm afternoon looking around. She turned a corner, squinting as the sunlight overwhelmed her eyesight. When she adjusted enough to see down the street, she froze.

On the other end of the block, three men wearing black suits and gold and red striped ties were walking towards her end of the block. She could recognize those uniforms anywhere.

Lannisters.

The Lannisters - the family who had so much power they could practically take over the country if they wanted to. The family who always paid their debts. The enemy of the Starks and the family who was commonly believed to be the murderer of Robb, Ned and Catelyn Stark. Ever since the Stark children were old enough to understand anything, they understood that the Lannisters were to be avoided at all costs.

Sansa had just arrived in New York. When she came, she knew that it was the home of the Lannisters. She knew that they would be here. But she also trusted Margaery and the power of the Tyrells. Here, alone, she didn’t have that power.

She wheeled around and walked as fast as she could in the opposite direction, keeping her head down, trying to blend in and attract as little attention as possible. She wanted to run, but she knew it would only make her stand out more. Looking back, she saw one of the Lannister men looking right at her curiously, as if he recognized her. The next thing she knew she ducked into a hotel lobby, quickly entering a smaller room with a couch and a few armchairs. A painting of a snow-covered castle hung on the wall.

She sighed in relief and closed her eyes, leaning against the wall, trying to calm herself down.

“And who were you running from?”

Sansa gasped, opening her eyes to find a man sitting in one of the chairs, reading a newspaper. He had golden-green eyes and light blond hair. Something about him was strangely intimidating, yet also intriguing. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I - I wasn’t running,” Sansa replied, trying to sound confident.

“No. I suppose you were walking,” said the man, studying her with narrowed eyes.

Sansa shifted under his gaze, desperately wanting to dig a hole and bury herself in it, never to be seen again. Instead, guessing that there was no jackhammer on the premises, she changed the topic.

“It’s a lovely painting, isn't it?” she swiftly changed the topic, gesturing to the snowy scene.

The man snorted, continuing his newspaper.

“What’s wrong with it, then?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s too perfect,” he stated, his eyes not leaving the paper.

“And what’s wrong with a little fantasy?”

He looked up again.

“Fantasy makes people believe fairytales can become reality. It only makes the moment when reality slaps them in the face more painful."

"Not everyone is so naive to look at fantasy and believe that such perfection exists," Sansa corrected.

He looked at her then as if he was surveying a new type of creature he had never seen before.

"Yes. I suppose you're right."

Part of her was telling her to flee back to Margaery and Loras' apartment. Yet she was intrigued by this strange man and was curious what about him seemed so damn familiar.

So she spoke again.

"I suppose you're not a fan of art, considering most of it is fairly unrealistic."

Though he didn't smile, he seemed amused.

"I never really go out of my way to see any. Only if I must."

"So what do you enjoy then?"

"What I'm good at."

She chuckled.

"Fair enough."

There was silence for a bit.

Finally, the man spoke up.

"You don't have to stand in the corner there like some frightened animal. Sit," he offered, gesturing to an armchair across from him. It sort of felt like she was about to get interrogated.

Instead of simply leaving with one of the number of random excuses that popped into her head, she slowly made her way to the chair and sat down. 

"You seen fairly mature for your age. How old are you exactly?" he inquired suspiciously.

"I'm turning 22 this month," she replied.

"22? Who has someone to run from at only 22?"

"Uh...it's...it's complicated," she said, fiddling with her hands in her lap.

"I suppose it is," he commented, narrowing his eyes at her as if he recognized her but just couldn't place her face.

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and finally resolved to say that she had to get going when he suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He glanced at it and started cursing under his breath.

"I've got to take this," he said, standing up and walking through the doorway.

This was her perfect opportunity to escape. She didn't want to spoil her first week in New York with getting recognized by a random person she just met. After all, this was her time to get away from the company and family war and drama.

She sat up and walked as quietly as she could out of the room and exited the lobby out onto the street, thankfully with no sight of the man.

She could still feel her heart thumping in her chest when she finally made it to the Tyrell apartment.

(<3 Game_of_Wolves)


	2. A Lion Let His Guard Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Tywin's POV). Sorry it's a little short. New update will be out sometime July 9th.

Of course Cersei had called him, then of all times. And only about stupid arrangements for the company event! He just needed a few more minutes and he was sure that he could figure out who she was, or at least who she wasn't.

She certainly looked familiar. The blue eyes, the fiery hair...he just couldn't remember exactly where he'd seen it before. 

And the worst thing was, when he returned just a few minutes later, she was gone. 'Of course she's gone', he scolded himself, 'You scared her and then gave her the perfect opportunity to flee.' He felt like a fool. She had walked right into his jaws and he had let her slip through his fingers.

But it wasn't just that he thought he recognized her. No, it was something else. Was it that she was strikingly beautiful? No, that wasn't it - though he also scolded himself for the dirty thoughts that came rushing into his head the first time after Joanna. It was the fact that for a brief second, he hadn't been his usual cold and commanding self; he had let his guard down for a 22 year old girl! He couldn't believe himself.

This was ridiculous. It was all ridiculous.

He waited a few more minutes in the little room when he finally was met by Olenna Tyrell to head to the meeting held in the hotel conference room

As the rest of the day passed by, he became more and more positive that he had seen her before, or at least one of her family members. But if she was walking - or running - alone, without guards or protection of any sort, how important could she be? Even he had guards patrolling the area, and he knew how to protect himself.

He would certainly have to investigate further into the category of blue-eyed-red-haired-attractive young women. That would have to come after the frivolous company event tomorrow. That was one thing he was definitely not looking forward to. But tradition was tradition, he supposed.


	3. What Could Go Wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's POV again. This chapter is going to give some insight about the Tyrells and all that jazz. Enjoy!

Sansa got off the elevator on the 15th floor, taking a moment to compose herself before she entered. She didn't really want to explain what had happened to Margaery, even though she knew she probably should. All she wanted to do was forget that she ever had the encounter with the Lannister men (and the mystery hotel lobby man who gave her a weird feeling) and enjoy the rest of her time off.

When she felt like she was ready, she slipped the key into the lock and opened the door.

"Sansa?" called Loras.

"Yeah, it's me," replied Sansa, taking off her sandals.

Loras soon appeared, heading down the stairs to greet Sansa.

"How was your afternoon?" he asked, as she put down her bag.

"Good," she lied, "Where's Margaery?"

"She'll be back soon. She just had to run a couple of errands."

"Alright. I'm going to freshen up," said Sansa, heading to the guest room.

Once she closed the door behind her, she stripped and jumped into the shower. She decided that what she needed to help her relax and forget her strange day was a refreshing wash. And she needed to think.

Why didn't she simply excuse herself from the conversation immediately in that hotel lobby? What in the Seven made her stay? Usually, she was shy and avoided all confrontation, especially when she was alone. The mystery man was intimidating. The way he had looked at her - it was like he was staring into the depths of her very soul.

She contemplated her encounter for a little while longer before getting out of the shower and brushing her hair. She slipped on some fresh clothes and left the guest room to find Margaery and Loras sitting on the couch, talking to none other than Olenna Tyrell, the so-called 'Queen of Thorns'.

"Sansa dear! It's so good to see you! How have you been? Come sit, I won't bite," she greeted, smiling warmly.

Sansa sat across from Loras and Margaery.

"What did you do today, Sansa?" Margaery piped up.

"I took a walk around the city, visited Central Park and a few other places."

"We're so sorry we couldn't join you today," Loras apologized, "Marg and I had to go in to work today."

"It's fine, don't worry about it. What's the plan for tonight?" Sansa asked, knowing that Olenna had to have shown up for a reason.

"We're going to go out for dinner," said Margaery, "There's this really good Italian restaurant nearby that we're going to go to."

"That sounds great," said Sansa.

They sat and talked for a little bit longer. Olenna was just as witty and sarcastic as Sansa remembered. They then left for the restaurant. Sansa was blown away by the food. It was delicious. When they finished, Margaery asked for a check, and the waiter left to get it.

"Yes, well since Loras and Margaery will be off for the company event tomorrow they can show you around some more," Olenna said casually.

"Company event?" Sansa asked, puzzled.

Loras and Margaery exchanged a worried glance.

"Yes, the annual Lannister/Baratheon event which we will be co-hosting," Olenna explained, slowly realizing what was going on, "Please tell me Margaery and Loras have informed you of this?"

"Grandmother," Margaery began calmly in a low voice, "The Starks have had a...shaky relationship with the Lannisters. We want her to feel safe -"

"Feel safe?" Olenna interrupted, "Do you think she would be harmed at an event that we are co-hosting? We are supporting almost half of that stupid company. Do you really think they could afford our backing out? Even if Joffrey the little cunt decided to act out, at least Tywin would put a stop to it because he has some sense about him!"

"So are you suggesting that she should go?" Loras asked.

"Yes!" Olenna whisper-shouted, "What kind of host leaves their guest at home alone while they go out to a party they don't tell them about?"

Loras and Margaery looked down at their laps. Sansa was still slightly confused and very surprised. 

"Sansa dear, you are coming to this event," Olenna stated.

Margaery looked up immediately.

"Grandmother, you can't force her!"

"Sansa," Olenna began, turning to her, "I swear that no harm dealt by a Lannister will come to you at this event. You have my word."

Not knowing what else to do, Sansa nodded. The waiter returned with the check. When it was all done, Olenna spoke again.

"Good. Margaery, get her one of your gowns. A sensible one," Olenna commanded, getting up from the table.

The rest of them got up in silence and exited the restaurant, following Olenna out of the establishment.

They got home a bit later than expected thanks to the stop at a store that Margaery just 'had' to look in, and they all bid eachother goodnight. Sansa, to say the least, was still sort of dumbfounded. She had just agreed to go to an event hosted by the Lannisters. What else could she do, say no to the Queen of Thorns?

She laid down on her bed, sighing and running a hand through her hair. Suddenly, her phone vibrated on the table beside her. It was Jon.

Jon: How's NYC?

Sansa smiled. At least this might help her calm down a bit.

Sansa: It's great

Sansa: The food is amazing here

Jon: That's good

Sansa: How are Arya, Bran and Rickon doing?

Jon: They're fine. The company's all good too

Sansa: That's good to hear

Sansa: Anything eventful happen lately in Colorado?

Jon: Nope. :I

Jon: It's great without u here. I get so much more privacy

Sansa: I miss u too, Jon 

Jon: ;D

Jon: But in all seriousness, I might need you to make a couple calls in a couple of days

Sansa: More Bolton trouble?

There was always something illegal going on with the Boltons. They had quite the hobby of torture, apparently.

Jon: Yep

Jon: Alright, I'll leave u alone now

Sansa: K. Bye

Jon: Bye

Sansa shut off her phone with a sigh. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth and washed her face, changed and went to bed. She fell asleep almost immediately. She had quite the day, between the Lannister men, the strange man and the event surprise.

And a good thing, too. It was going to be a long day. She supposed Olenna was right - what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that one wasn't really full of action, still sort of setting the stage. Get ready for another Tywin POV coming soon. Next chapter will be Sansa prepping for the event and then the one after that we'll be in the mind of the Great Lion himself. 
> 
> Thank you to those who are leaving comments, I appreciate the support and I love you all!
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


	4. Thank Me Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alriiiigggghhhtttt people it's time for some party prep with Margaery. Just warning you in advance, I have absolutely NO idea about this sort of stuff but I'm going to try my best. *deep breath*. Here we go.

Sansa woke up to the smell of a wonderful breakfast. Light streamed through the cracks in the blinds and onto the bed. She stretched, sighed and pulled away the blankets, standing up and stretching again. Rubbing her eyes she walked into the bathroom and immediately grabbed her hairbrush and began to brush. She didn't even want to look in the mirror.

She had tossed and turned for ages last night thinking about the upcoming event before finally falling asleep. She already knew exactly how her hair looked - like a bird's nest after two hurricanes and a tsunami. Haha, just joking - there wasn't a tsunami.

She finished her morning routine and put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She opened the door and walked out into the living room, turning towards the kitchen. Margaery was at the stove and Loras was washing cherries.

"Good morning," greeted Margaery, busy making pancakes. 

"Morning," said Sansa, walking up to the counter, "Anything I can do to help? It smells great in here."

"We've pretty much got it under control. You can set the table, though," answered Margaery, plating the two pancakes she had finished and pouring more batter into the pan.

Sansa grabbed some napkins and silverware and headed to the table.

"Sleep well?" Loras asked.

"Yep," Sansa lied.

"I hope you did," she said, flipping the pancakes, "You're going to need energy for tonight," she finished, looking up to wink at Sansa.

Sansa dropped the silverware on the table.

"Margaery! It's a formal company event, not a club!" Sansa protested.

Margaery smiled and put her hands up in surrender. Loras laughed a little.

"How's Renly doing?" Sansa asked Loras.

"Oh, he's good," answered Loras, smiling, "He's meeting us at the event tonight."

They continued to prepare breakfast, happily talking together. When Sansa had first come to New York when Ned was still alive, the Tyrells had welcomed her into their social group. By now, Margaery and Loras were like a second family to her.

They all sat down to eat and enjoyed the wonderful fluffy pancakes and the sweet cherries.

"So, Sansa, have you ever party-prepped with Margaery before?" Loras asked.

"I don't think so," Sansa replied slowly, looking between the two of them, "Why?"

Loras snorted and began laughing. Margaery's jaw nearly touched the ground as her mouth opened in shock.

"I guess you'll just have to find out!" Loras forced out between laughs.

Margaery finally closed her mouth.

"I-I've never...I've never helped you dress for a party before?" she asked, horrified.

Sansa joined Loras in his laughter, putting her fork down and shaking her head no.

"Oh my gods," she said, standing up suddenly, grabbing Sansa's hand and pulling her away from the table, "Loras, clean this up. We've got business to attend to."

Loras got up, still laughing, and began to gather up the dishes.

Margaery dragged Sansa to her room and slammed the door behind them. She strode over to the walk-in-closet that Olenna had insisted she install (an order which Margaery did not resist) and showed Sansa in.

"Alright," she said, "Stand here, in front of the mirror," she commanded, positioning her in front of the full length mirror.

"Now let me see," she muttered, turning to a rack designated to gowns, which was also a command of Olenna's, "Green...no. How about this one?"

"Margaery..." Sansa said, trying to get her attention.

"No, no. Too much. What about-"

"Margaery!" Sansa shouted, bringing her out of her trance.

"Yes?"

"It's like, 10:00 in the morning, do we need to do this now?"

"Of course we need to do this now!" replied Margaery, turning to her best friend, "The event's at 6:00, which means we've only got eight hours to prepare!"

" 'Only' eight hours?!"

"Yes! You've got to look stunning tonight! Show the Lannisters that no matter what they do, Sansa Stark will still be going strong!"

"Umm...okay."

"Trust me, you'll thank me later," promised Margaery, turning back to the dresses.

After a few minutes of 'hmm's and 'hold on's, it was narrowed down to three dresses. A violet mermaid style gown with a diamond cut out of the back, a dark blue a-line with thin 3/4 length floral lace sleeves and a green Cinderella-style gown with a low cut neckline.

"Try these three," said Margaery, holding them up, "They're a little big on me, so they should fit you well enough."

Sansa took them one by one, walking out to show Margaery each of them.

"Oh my gods. Definitely this one!" Margaery squealed.

"You think so?" Sansa smoothed out her dress, unsure.

"I know so!" she reassured her, grabbing a pair of fancy summery sandals, "Wear it with these."

"Thank you so much for letting me use your clothes, Marg."

"Of course! You're just lucky we're the same size!"

After that, they headed to Margaery's favorite spa. They both got massages and their nails done. Sansa had to admit, despite her reluctance about going to the event, at least the spa was nice!

They arrived back at the apartment, and Margaery proceeded to talk about makeup. Once it was finally sorted out and Margaery had tired Sansa out with her makeup talking, the two best friends went into the living room, settled down onto the couch with blankets and popcorn to watch some Netflix. 

Time flew by, and soon it was 5:00, and Margaery dragged Sansa to her room again. They then and turned to makeup. Sansa insisted that she didn't want any. Margaery was hesitant, but agreed to only put a little on her to enhance her 'natural beauty', as Margaery called it.

Margaery had picked out a yellow floral dress with white heels. Together, they both agreed that they looked stunning. Soon after, Loras was ready as well, and they all left together in a Tyrell car.

To say the least, Sansa was nervous as hell.

Margaery and Sansa got out arm in arm, Loras and Olenna beside them. Photographers took pictures as they walked in.

They got to the threshold of the main hall.

"Are you ready, Sansa?" Margaery whispered.

"I-I...n-"

"Aren't you coming?" Olenna called back at them.

Margaery gave Sansa an encouraging look and lead her in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be a Tywin POV! Get excited for some party decor and cool stuff like that. Are you all anxious to find out which of the dresses Sansa's wearing? The next few chapters are going to be action-packed. Also, be warned, Littlefinger incoming! 
> 
> Hope this fashion thing wasn't too bad. I tried, idk.
> 
> Anyway, love you all, see you tomorrow!
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


	5. Discreet Inquiries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go - a Tywin Chapter! Hope you're ready for some stuff to happen. Let's see where this goes.

Tywin Lannister did not enjoy parties.

This particular event was no exception.

The planning was probably the worst part. Olenna was trying to spend as much Lannister money as possible and Cersei wanted it to be all about Joffrey. Tywin wanted neither of these things, obviously. He liked being rich (and intended to stay rich) and he wasn't about to give the credit of the entire company to his mess of a grandson. 

In the end, he managed to get his way. It wasn't too over the top, but it was enough to impress and scare the other families into submission. That was his style.

Everything was according to his plan. He sat with Jaime, Tyrion, Cersei and Kevan on a balcony overlooking the huge main room decorated with strings of golden lights. Banners with the company sigil hung from the walls. A stage with a podium was positioned right below the balcony, on which there would be speakers talking about the successes of the Lannister/Baratheon company and its allies. There was a Lannister-red carpet embroidered with golden lions, tables with tablecloths of red and gold laden with food and most importantly, an orchestra ready to play the Rains of Castamere, if need be. 

He wore a black tunic accompanied with a red cape draping across his shoulder and diagonally across his chest. His golden hand pin sat upon it's usual spot.

The guests began to arrive. Kevan, who sat next to him, explained who all of the visitors were as they entered, although Tywin already knew. He sat back in his chair and watched as they gaped at the splendor of the room.

"Now we've got a party," Tyrion said sarcastically, "Most of the gang has arrived."

"We've got Freys, Boltons, Greyjoys; the happy bunch," jested Jaime, "And there are the Martells, some Baratheons, and the Arryns are even here. All the important bunch."

"Yes," Tywin growled, "But where are the Tyrells?"

Just as he spoke, four figures entered the room.

"There they are," said Cersei, taking a long drink of her wine.

His proud demeanor immediately faltered. Surprise, confusion and anger was written all over his face. Luckily, only Kevan saw. 

"Who's that?" he ground out.

"With the Queen of Thorns? That is Margaery Tyrell, and her brother Loras," Kevan answered flatly.

"I know the Tyrell girl," he said through clenched teeth, "But who is her companion?"

Kevan paused, considering the tall redhead.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," he finally replied, watching her intently, "One of Margaery's many cousins, probably."

"When was the last time you saw a Tyrell with red hair and a figure like that?" scoffed Jaime.

"Kevan," Tywin growled, "Inquire about the girl's identity. Discreetly."

Kevan turned to his brother in shock. 'Why did he care?', Kevan wondered. But he knew he couldn't question his brother. So he stood and walked down the stairs to carry out his brother's command.

Tywin certainly knew why he cared. Why on Earth was the redhead he had met in that hotel lobby here? Not that he wasn't interested to see her. It would save him some time, at least. And she was quite pleasing to look at.

She wore a stunning blue dress that made her beautiful long red hair stand out. She looked like a goddess, with her dress slightly trailing behind her and her elegant way of walking. Her hair was a waterfall of rubies framing her face and her blue eyes.

If she turned out to be someone important, it would surely make this night less boring. He began to wonder if she had seen him yet, and if she had recognized him from the hotel like he had recognized her. He guessed that she hadn't, as he saw that she was still admiring the decor as the other guests had been doing.

It turns out that he wasn't the only head turned to her. He noticed Oberyn Martell eyeing her curiously, as well as his council member, Petyr Baelish. This was certainly getting interesting. Littlefinger began to make his way over to her, but noticed that she was also Kevan's destination and backed off.

Kevan finally reached Olenna and her gang, shaking her hand and giving a respectful nod to Margaery and Loras, making slight small-talk with them. It seemed like it was going well so far.

He turned to the mystery woman. He talked for a moment, and she answered. Tywin tried to read her lips, but failed to understand what she said. He did notice, however, that Kevan's hand froze as it rose to shake hers and retreated back to his side. His entire figure seemed to tense up.

Oh, she was important all right.

He walked away after a few more minutes of talk with the Tyrells. He watched the redhead as she cocked her head to the side for a second and then began to look around the room. Kevan was halfway ups the stairs now.

She slowly followed Kevan up the stairs with her icy blue gaze, moving ahead of him and surveying the balcony. She froze, her eyes widening when she made eye contact with Tywin, who was staring at her intently. The other Tyrells resumed conversation among themselves.

There was a bone-chilling moment as they both took in each other's appearance, Tywin confused and the redhead...scared?

Kevan sat back down beside him and took a deep breath.

"Uhm...you're not going to like this..." Kevan started, stilly slightly out of breath.

"Go on, out with it," Tyrion spurred him on.

Tywin watched in silence as the redhead excused herself from the Tyrell group and began to hurry towards the underside of the balcony. Tywin concluded she was probably going to the restroom. But why had she looked so scared?

"She's a...she's Sansa Stark," Kevan whispered.

Tywin rose from his chair abruptly, watching as she made her way to the bathrooms. She was almost tout of his sight now.

"What?!" he exclaimed, almost too loudly. Some people in the area began to look at him suspiciously.

"She's Sans-"

"I know who she is you idiot!" Tywin interrupted, shutting his brother up. He began to hurry down the stairs of the balcony, towards where she went. 

It made so much sense now - everything. The hair, the face, the eyes; he had seen them when she was a lot younger, and in her mother and father. On the day they met in the hotel room, she was running from the clearly Lannister guard patrol he had set up outside the hotel. She was petrified when she saw him because she must have made the connection between Kevan and himself and realized that the man she had met in that random hotel lobby had been none other than the head of the family she held responsible for most of her pain. Baelish had set out for her when she arrived because he knew that she was the daughter of his first love.

But why was she in New York, and specifically, at a Lannister event? Surely she must have known the danger of coming here. But she had come anyway.

Tywin reached the bottom of the stairs and turned in the direction that she had disappeared in. If he could catch her alone, he would have a perfect opportunity to talk with her. He enjoyed talking with his enemies, especially when he had the advantage of the situation. Yet again, she had unknowingly walked right into his jaws.

And this time, he wasn't going to let her slip through his fingers.

'Yes,' Tywin concluded, smirking, 'This is going to be an exciting night.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooohhhh look at that! It's getting juicy now. Next chapter will be their identity realization from Sansa's POV, starting from where I left off with her.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for the tips and support. I am now going back to edit the previous chapter.
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


	6. Care to Explain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened in the last chapter from Sansa's POV. It will also go a little further into what happens next. Even I'm nervous for this, and I know what happens! This is going to be a double-update, so I'll do another Tywin POV after this one. Enjoy!

Sansa gripped Margaery's arm as they entered the huge room. It was absolutely stunning and absolutely Lannister. Red and gold carpet, golden lights, red and gold and lion everything. There were a couple Baratheon nods, but it was all about the Lannisters.

It only made her more nervous.

Anyone could recognize her, even though the last time she had come to New York was a long time ago and she was much younger then, she felt like she still had 'Look at me, I'm a venerable and terrified Sansa Stark at a Lannister party' written all over her.

It didn't help that almost every eye in the entire room was turned to her and the Tyrells. And for a good reason - they were quite the important bunch. What was comforting was that she hadn't seen any sign of Joffrey yet. If he did show up, she was in for some trouble.

Ah, what was she thinking?! She could have just told Olenna that she had felt sick or something on the day of the event so she didn't have to go. There was danger left and right for her.

She wondered if she'd prefer an encounter with Joffrey or with the Great Lion himself. Chills went down her spine at the thought of either.

At that moment, she saw two men heading towards her. One of which she knew to be Petyr Baelish - a man who seemed trustworthy and untrustworthy at the same time. The other man, however, she couldn't recognize. He did look familiar, almost in a way she had seen before. As they both approached, Baelish noticed the other's advance and retreated back to the strange company he was sitting around with. 

The stranger continued to come closer until he stood in front of her and the Tyrells.

"If it isn't the Queen of Thorns herself," he said, "It's good to see you," he finished, shaking her hand.

"Is it, Kevan?" she asked as they shook.

Kevan? Like Kevan Lannister? This wasn't good news for Sansa. And she had only just arrived. She had four more hours of this and she had encountered danger in the first few minutes!

Then she noticed again how familiar he looked. Those golden-green eyes and that blond hair, where had she seen them before, and so recently, too?

"Yes, it always is," he chuckled, dropping his hand, "And you as well, Margaery. How have you been?"

"Good, good. I trust business is good?" she asked, squeezing Sansa's hand.

"Ah, yes," he replied dismissively, "And who might this young lady be?" he asked, turning to Sansa.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her first instinct was to lie, say her name was Elianya Tyrell or something. But Olenna wouldn't approve - no, she would have to tell him who she was.

So she gripped Margaery's hand and replied.

"My name is Sansa Stark," she answered, mustering every ounce of confidence she had in her.

He faltered for a moment, as she had expected he would.

"A pleasure, Ms. Stark," he said, the smile disappearing from his face, "Do excuse me."

He hurried off back to where he came from. Margaery started talking with Loras and Olenna about something, but her entire world faded out into the background as she watched Kevan ascend some stairs up to a balcony where she saw-

She saw...no, it couldn't be.

Gazing right back at her with a bone-chilling stare, was the stranger she had met in the hotel.

The stranger with golden-green eyes and blond hair.

He was Tywin Lannister.

Her stomach dropped. If she wasn't in the middle of a Lannister party, she probably would have screamed.

She was an idiot, a stupid little idiot! She had a feeling that something was up with that man! She knew Kevan was going back to alert the entire Lannister family that she was here - specifically Tywin. She had to get out of here.

"Excuse me, I-I feel a bit sick," she said, practically running over to where she presumed the bathrooms were.

As soon as she disappeared underneath the balcony she felt a million times better. She no longer felt a heated gaze burning into her skull. But she wasn't out of the danger zone yet. She had to go somewhere he couldn't follow her. Preferably, into a cardboard box being shipped to Colorado, but right now she had to make do.

The women's bathroom was the only place she could hide. She couldn't run, she supposed, but she could hide. The quote didn't have the same effect backwards, but it was close enough.

She exhaled a sigh of relief when she spotted a bathroom sign complete with a nice arrow pointing out which hallway she needed to take to get there. Finally, she came upon the door to the restroom.

It was one of those bathrooms with a waiting room sort of thing attached to it, and some sort of other strange changing rooms and showers in addition to toilets. Well, she intended to wait out as much of this party as possible in here, so the more the better.

To her dismay, as she shut the door behind her, the noise didn't stop. Which meant someone else was in here. Great.

Then, walking out of the showers appeared three figures, laughing and jeering.

Three male figures.

In a women's bathroom.

Why did her life fucking suck?

She looked around the waiting room, frantically searching for a place to hide.

"Hello, Sansa," greeted a familiar boyish voice that automatically made her want to vomit.

"Joffrey, what are you doing here, this is a girls' bathroom?" she asked quietly, backing up away from him and his goons.

A devilish smirk crossed his face.

"I'm more excited to know what you are doing here, at a Lannister event," he teased her, slowly advancing towards her, "Won't you tell us?"

Her back collided with the wall behind her.

"Or will we have to make you?" he asked, smirking and continuing towards her.

He stopped right in front of her, his goons flanking him on either side, creating an inescapable semi-circle around her.

Sansa didn't respond. She didn't know if it was because she was scared out of her damn mind or because she was trying to be defiant. She would have hoped it was the latter, but when he stood in front of her like that, memories flooded back into her brain and helped her remember why she had feared him so.

"Meryn, Boros," he commanded, gesturing at her arms.

In the blink of an eye, she had both of her arms pinned against the wall at her sides. She struggled, but it was pointless. 

Suddenly, she lifted her right leg and kneed him in the crotch. Joffrey yelped and staggered backwards, not expecting she had the guts to even touch him.

Once he recovered, he was seething.

"You're going to regret that, you stupid bitch!" he spat, clenching his fist and raising it in the air.

Sansa shut her eyes and prepared for the worst.


	7. Fancy Seeing You Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the Tywin POV from where we left off with him.

Tywin followed where he had seen her go, guessing that she had decided to go to the restrooms. He guessed she had thought he wouldn't follow her there.

What she didn't think was that he was Tywin Lannister; he could follow her where he wanted to and do as he pleased.

Eventually he reached the women's restroom and wasted no time in shoving the door open and stepping in.

To his utmost surprise and rage, he witnessed the scene in front of him.

His grandson stood in the middle of the room, fist raised and spitting everywhere in fury. Sansa fucking Stark was being pinned up against the wall by two of Joffrey's goons, her eyes shut in anticipation of what was to come.

"Grandfather," Joffrey greeted, turning to him, "Fancy seeing you here," he said, turning back to Sansa. 

Her eyes shot open at the mention of Tywin. He saw her chest heave at the sight of him seeing her in this state, anxious to see what he would do.

"Care to join?" Joffrey asked, as if it was a completely sane offer.

"NO!" Tywin shouted, making Joffrey flinch, "GET OUT!"

At this, Meryn and Boros dropped Sansa's arms, and she immediately brought them into her chest, holding her wrists.

"But-"

"I SAID, GET OUT!"

Sulking like a boy who had just gotten a time out, Joffrey stormed out of the bathroom, his goons in tow.

Tywin looked back at Sansa, who's eyes were trained on the ground. He approached her quickly, making her flinch as he got close enough to touch her. 

"Are you harmed?" he asked in a low growl.

She shook her head no, still looking down at the floor.

Neither of them said a word after that. There was silence for what felt like an eternity until he finally spoke.

"It seems we meet again," he paused, "Ms. Stark."

Her breath hitched at the mention of her name.

"I-I..." she managed to force out, "I can't..."

She tried to slide away to the side along the wall but Tywin's arm shot out to block her exit. Her head shot up.

"Tell me, Ms. Stark," he said, repeating her name, "Why are you in New York?"

"The Tyrells i-invited me," she answered meekly, avoiding his sharp penetrating gaze.

"Of course they did," he mused, surveying her face and body language in an effort to get an idea of some emotion she was feeling other than fear.

There was fear - that was obvious. And there was hate, too. But there was something else, something grappling with the hate. He just couldn't figure out what it was.

"But why have you come here?" he asked, "Into the Lion's Den?"

"O-Olenna..."

"Ah, Olenna forced you to accompany her. That seems like her," he snorted.

"Please just let me-"

"Patience, Ms. Stark. I only have a couple more questions for you," he interrupted her, moving his arm away from the wall and slowly back to his side.

To his relief and surprise, she did not try to escape. 

"I know what's going on," he said, "I've seen that look before. You want to hate me, you're telling yourself that you hate me. But there is something that makes you reluctant to hate me, however wrong it seems to you."

Her lips parted as if she was about to speak, but she closed them again. And he knew he was right.

"What do you think is going to happen to you now?" he asked, curious.

"I-I don't know," she answered quietly.

She was in the perfect position for him now, right where he wanted her.

"No, you don't," he said, pausing, "But I do."

And with that, he left the room, leaving her dumbstruck and terrified.

This wasn't over - not yet. He had trapped Sansa Stark, and he wasn't about to let her go. He had a use for her. But more than anything, he was determined to find out if she felt the same way that he did when he stood right in front of her like that.

He was determined to find out what battled with her hate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was torn between her running into Joffrey and then being 'saved' by Tywin, and Tywin barging into the girl's bathroom. In the end, I chose both. I guess I'm just bad at decision making. Hope it turned out okay.
> 
> Love you guys!
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


	8. Now What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's POV now. Let's see how she's taking this. Get ready for a glimpse of some Littlefinger action!

Sansa was dumbstruck. After Joffrey almost...well, she had no idea what he was going to do really, and then Tywin barging in to...save her, she supposed, questioned and intimidated her and then left her there with no idea what to do, she was quite confused and still terrified.

She had to leave - go back to Colorado. It was a mistake ever coming here, what was she thinking? Yes, she would have to return to Colorado. But could she leave without an explanation other than 'the Lannisters are scary as fuck'? She thought not. Olenna would come up with some 'oh, but we're Tyrells, you'll be fine' bullshit. She could just stay in the apartment for the rest of the time. But would that really keep her away from him? Now that he knew who she was, he could probably find her almost anywhere.

Yeah, she was fucked.

Not knowing what else to do, she walked out of the restroom and slowly creeped back into the main room and scanned the premises for Margaery. As she stepped out from under the balcony, she immediately felt the burning stare of a certain lion and immediately regretted her decision. She retreated back out of sight and awkwardly stood there for a moment.

She hated him, she hated him, she hated him. She hated him - she had to hate him! He was the leader of the family who killed hers for gods' sake! He was terrifying and intimidating. There was nothing else about him. 

So what about him did she find so...so...no, she couldn't. It was wrong, so wrong in so many ways. 

Yet when his gaze fell on her, she had felt something other than fear and hate. Something she didn't want to admit to herself.

She was suddenly yanked out of her thoughts when she saw a figure approaching her.

"Sansa," said a voice, "It's good to see you."

She recognized him immediately. A surge of relief and doubt washed over her.

"Mr. Baelish," she smiled, "The same to you."

"Call me Petyr," he insisted, as he usually did. 

They both stood there and waited as he practically drank her in. There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"It's dangerous to be in the Lion's Den, Sansa, without a pack of your own," he reminded her, "You need someone you can trust."

"I know who I can trust, M - Petyr," she corrected herself, taking a breath as his eyes darkened, "I have the Tyrells, and I have you."

"Yes, you may. But that's not nearly enough. Not here," he told her, taking both of her wrists in his hands, "New York is not a good place for a lone wolf, Sweetling. You need to be with your pack."

"I can't go back now," she said regretfully, "Not where Olenna is concerned."

"Ah, the Queen of Thorns," he chuckled, "She always likes to stir the pot."

"What?"

"Never mind that, Sweetling," he said, bringing her hand to his lips, "Come now, stay with me for a while. You're safe with me."

She nodded, still unsure and doubtful, but she knew that she had no one else other than Margaery. And Sansa didn't want to tell Margaery about Tywin. She would be forced to admit that she felt something more for him - no, she didn't. Gods, this was confusing.

They talked for a while, looking around and pointing out the party guests as Littlefinger talked about his business successes and some gossip he learned from his little birds.

"Yes, very abnormal. But what isn't abnormal is Joffrey's idiotic behavior," he said, making them stop to look to each other.

"Really?" she asked, intrigued, "What has he been doing?"

"Well, first of all, he's a frequent in the brothels around here," he told her, "And apparently he's getting into more legal trouble. Something about drugs or poison or something of the sort."

"I'm actually not that surprised," commented Sansa, remembering what had happened in the restroom just minutes before.

She also remembered the first time Joffrey had hit her. He had Boros and Meryn with him, and commanded them to hold her down, rip off some of her clothes and beat her. She had almost passed out. There was blood everywhere, and she still had a few scars on her back. Whenever she got a massage, the masseuse would always give her a look as if to silently ask what the hell had happened. Sansa usually just smiled and shook her head.

They continued to talk for a little longer. They had discussed almost every important family at the party when she noticed someone approaching the two of them out of the corner of her eye. At first she thought it might be Tywin again, but as she got a look at who the figure was, she wasn't scared at all.

She wondered what business Oberyn Martell might have with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there's another update for all you lovely peeps. Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry it was a bit short, my Wifi is failing me so I'm getting that fixed (hopefully) and I'm tired as hell. I'll try to make up for it tomorrow.
> 
> And do not worry you Littlefinger fans, there will be more Baelish in Sansa's future.
> 
> Also, I've been wondering - what other G.O.T. ships do you like/want to see in the future? I have some ideas, but I'm not sure what you guys will like. If you all could comment some suggestions and opinions, that would be much appreciated.
> 
> As always,
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


	9. Lions and Tyrells and Snakes, Oh My!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> I just want to apologize for not updating yesterday. Long story short, I was watching a movie and then it was 3:00am and then I fell asleep.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so so much for 1000 hits! I can't believe this is happening already! YAYAYAYAYAY!
> 
> And without further ado, on with the Sansa - I mean the story.
> 
> (I'm sorry that was bad)

As the Viper continued to approach, Sansa couldn't help but notice how livid Littlefinger looked. With each step Oberyn took, he seemed to get more and more angry.

"Ah, Mr. Martell-"

"Hello, Baelish," Oberyn interrupted, his hands resting behind his back, "Enjoying the party?"

"I had to help pay for it," he answered stiffly, "But I'm sure your paramour is having a good time."

Oberyn laughed, shaking his head. 

"You really haven't changed at all, have you," he said.

Petyr decided to ignore that.

"Mr. Martell, this is-"

"Sansa Stark," he interrupted again, making Petyr fume, "It's a pleasure to meet you," he smiled handsomely, shaking her hand.

She was still unsure about him, but the Martells had no real side in this particular fight - although that would probably change soon, to the Lannister's advantage - so what reason would he have to harm her in any way?

"If I may have a moment alone, Ms. Stark?" he asked kindly.

Sansa looked to Petyr, knowing he wasn't going to approve, but continued anyway.

"Of course," she replied, turning back to Oberyn and ignoring Petyr as he stalked away.

Once he had gone, Oberyn's kind expression changed to a one of concern and worry.

"Coming here was a risky idea," he told her, "I hope you had a good reason in doing so."

She told him all about why she was in New York and how Olenna had forced her to come to the event.

"Yes," he chucked, "The wrath of the Thorn Queen is a perfectly good reason to do something unadvisable."

Sansa laughed.

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you know who I was?" she asked.

"I'm afraid everyone knows who you are now," he informed her, "Word travels fast around here."

Great. Now everyone knew who she was and almost half of the people there would rather see her dead than alive.

"I imagine you're quite terrified," said the Viper, "It's understandable. I just want you to know that the Martells are with you."

Sansa was shocked.

"Really? But why?" she asked, suddenly not exactly sure of his motives.

"We don't agree with families who target young women in vulnerable situations," he declared, narrowing his eyes, "And the Lannisters have done nothing but harm my family."

"That we have in common," she agreed.

They talked for a while longer. Sansa thanked him with all her heart for his reassurance and kindness. He complimented her on her dress and talked with her about how the Starks were doing. It was all very pleasant, really. Sansa was quite enjoying herself.

"Good evening, good evening, everyone," a voice boomed into a microphone, "If you all could find your way to your seats that would be wonderful, we'll begin in just a minute."

Kevan stepped away from the stage and back to his brother, who now sat with the rest of the Lannisters near the back of the stage.

Oberyn said goodbye and made his way to a table where the rest of his family sat. Sansa watched his paramour greet him passionately with a kiss. Sansa cringed.

She sighed and made her way to where Margaery and Loras sat. She was relieved to find an empty seat marked 'guest' between the two siblings. She sat down.

"Sansa! Where have you been?" Margaery asked, "I saw you with Oberyn a couple minutes ago, what were you talking about?"

As Sansa opened her mouth to answer, the entire room quieted. Kevan Lannister had stepped up to speak again.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he started, looking over the crowd, "We gather here tonight to celebrate the accomplishments of us all."

"The accomplishments of the Lannisters," Loras scoffed, correcting Kevan in a whisper to Sansa and Margaery.

"This year we have been..." Kevan continued to speak, but Sansa couldn't hear him.

She was too busy staring at someone else.

Tywin Lannister sat proudly in the middle of the Lannisters, sweeping his burning gaze over the audience.

Suddenly, his eyes lined up with hers, she looked away immediately, breathing heavily. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him smirk and sit up in his chair.

He couldn't possibly tell. He couldn't know how she felt - no, how she didn't feel - about him. Did she hate him? Yes. Definitely. But was there something else, something Sansa couldn't come to terms with?

Oh, yes there was, no matter how much Sansa tried to deny it, there was.

"...thanks to the Tyrells," a cheer came from Sansa's table as Kevan's voice drifted back into her ears, "To the Boltons," Sansa winced as an even louder cheer came from a table across the room, "And to the Iron Islands," another cheer, "We have been able to reach new heights," after the crowd hushed itself once again, he grabbed the microphone from the stand, "And to tell us about these new heights, the one and only Tyrion Lannister."

Tyrion smiled and stood from his chair, walking up and taking the microphone from Kevan. He reached up and shoved it back into its stand. He then began to lower the stand, lower and lower, and the some members of the crowd began to snicker and laugh. Margaery glared at one of her cousins who was laughing and they immediately stopped.

All was silenced, however, with a sweeping glare from the old Lion himself. Anyone who had been giggling lowered their heads in submission.

Once he was done, Tyrion began to speak.

His jokes were funny, she had to give him that. Sansa had no personal reason to despise Tyrion, other than the fact that he was a Lannister. She did have many personal reasons to despise the rest of his family.

Cersei, for the torment. Jaime, for crippling Bran. Joffrey, for murdering her father and constantly torturing her. And last, but certainly not least, Tywin, for overseeing it all and probably murdering Robb and her mother.

But what could she do now? She was surrounded by families that hated her with only two that she knew of at her side.

She was at the mercy of the Lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeyyyyy guys hope you all enjoyed it. A bit of a boring chapter, sorry.
> 
> But you all can get excited for a Tywin POV up next! Trust me, he's plotting something.
> 
> The night is well from over and Tywin's only just begun.
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for 1000 hits and all the kudos and comments, I appreciate that you took time out of your lives to read this.
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


	10. Unrequited Jealousy, Reciprocal Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some Tywin! I wonder what he's going to think about her interactions with Petyr and Oberyn. Actually, I know, because I'm about to write it.
> 
> Haha. 
> 
> Anyway, just read the chapter. Hope you enjoy.

Almost every single eye in the room was trained on him as he exited the bathrooms and returned to his post on the balcony. 

Let them stare. A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.

"Father, what was that about?" Tyrion asked, "We find out that Sansa Stark is here and the first thing you do is that?"

"So what would you have me do?" Tywin asked, boredom laced in his tone.

"I - I don't know!" he sputtered, "Get information through the Tyrells, something other than confronting her! She must be petrified!"

"Rightfully so," Jaime, who had been listening the whole time, jumped in, "What was she thinking, coming here?"

"It only serves us, so why should we care?" Cersei asked her brothers evenly and coldly.

Tyrion sighed exasperatedly and shut up. Jaime followed suit.

Tywin then turned to look over his domain. Olenna was conversing with Kevan, the rest of the Tyrells were talking amongst themselves, the Freys and Boltons conspired on the other side of the room while the Greyjoys shouted and roughly started arguments with each other. All was normal. 

He spotted Sansa then, who to his utmost fury, was walking with Littlefinger.

Of course she would be attracting attention, she was Sansa Stark. But something inside him made him snarl at the sight of her smiling and speaking with a man. And Littlefinger, of all people.

This was simply just his natural reaction to seeing a pretty woman. Yes, that's what it was. He hadn't had a woman in a long time now, he just needed to get it out of his system. He didn't have time for distractions, not with the Targaeryan girl to deal with.

A few minutes later Kevan returned and informed them that they needed to head down to the stage and take their seats there. The Lannister company migrated down the stairs, basking in the attention. Tywin stole a glare at Littlefinger and a glance at Sansa, who didn't seem to notice.

They took their seats and awaited Kevan's signal to begin.

Tywin let Kevan run these events. Not because Tywin was unable to lead them, but that be found it more amusing to simply watch the action unfold in front of him and relax. He looked back over to Sansa, who was now joined by Oberyn. The same jealousy sparked in him again.

He looked away again. She could do whatever she wanted, he supposed. It wouldn't matter. He knew he would get her alone again before the night was over.

Plus, he had more important matters to attend to at the moment.

"Cersei."

"Father?"

"Do you know where your son is?"

"No."

"Don't you think you should change that?"

"Father, he is an adult," she protested, "He can do as he pleases."

"Can he now? Anything he pleases?" Tywin scoffed, "Just a few minutes ago, before I stepped in, your son was about to recklessly endanger the future of our family."

Jaime got up and took Cersei by the arm to look for Joffrey before she got herself into serious trouble. Tyrion smiled, shook his head and took a drink out of his glass. His eyes then found Sansa, and he continued to watch her talk with Oberyn, amused and interested.

Tywin continued to only sneak heated angry glances towards her.

Kevan finally announced that it was time to begin and the remaining minglers made their ways to their seats. Tywin's eyes burned holes into Sansa's back as she walked to her spot in between the Tyrell children. Kevan began his opening speech.

Loras leaned over to whisper something to Sansa and Margaery, causing them to giggle a little, along with some others across from them. Shortly after, Sansa's eyes met with his. He couldn't help the smirk that fell onto his face at her expression when she was caught staring - and all that implied. So she was interested.

That was amusing.

Tyrion got up to speak at Kevan's invitation. The old Lion silenced the snickering guests at his son's lowering of the microphone with only a glare, which was maintained throughout the speech. Tyrion finished, the crowd applauded and he returned to his seat.

Kevan then got up again. Tywin knew what it was time for. He also knew that this was his chance. The chance he had been waiting for.

"Now if the Tyrells will come to the front," Kevan said, nodding to the table, "Everyone else, you may talk quietly for a few minutes.

Now Kevan was going to serenade the Tyrells with golden words of praise before it was their turn to speak. Just as he predicted, Margaery, Loras and Olenna got up, Sansa still sitting there in confusion. Olenna talked to her for a moment, making her stand up and her face pale.

She snuck another glance at him.

Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get to as much as I had hoped. Sowwy. But next chapter is another Tywin POV! So at least there's that.
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


	11. Impending Doom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I am sooooo sorry for the delay. I finally got my wifi to work, so that's good.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

With her blue eyes cast down to the ground and her hands folded in front of her, Sansa walked behind Loras and Olenna up to the stage. Margaery followed at the back, clearly concerned for her friend. The room was back to it's previous level of noise, though all eyes were now glued on the action.

They stepped up one by one to join the Lannisters on the stage.

"There you are, Tywin," Olenna declared, "Where have you been all night?"

"Business as usual," he said dismissively, "I trust you have been enjoying the party."

"Yes, yes," replied Olenna, "Get on with it."

"Right," said Tyrion, stepping forward beside his father, "The plan is that you all will join us on the stage and say a few words. Then dinner will be served and a few announcements will be made."

Jaime and Cersei sat in their spots, eyeing Sansa. Jaime seemed amused and Cersei was...annoyed, to say the least. Kevan stood next to Tywin and Tyrion.

"Yes," Jaime piped up, "Won't you join us?" he suggested.

"I'm sure we can have an extra chair pulled up," said Cersei with a smirk, standing up and taking a chair from the side of the stage and beginning to drag it.

Tywin watched Sansa slowly realize what was going to happen. Cersei was going to place the chair right across from her father.

(seating)

Jaime Kevan Tywin Tyrion

Cersei Margaery Sansa Olenna Loras

She stiffened and gripped her hands in a tight grip. Margaery frowned, but knew she was unable to stop what was happening. Olenna didn't seem to care much and Loras seemed distracted.

They sat down in their spots. Tywin managed to show an expression of calm instead of what he really felt - pure joy and excitement. Sansa kept her eyes on her placemat in front of her.

Conversation began about various things related to the company. However, neither Tywin nor Sansa were paying much attention.

Tywin was far too busy for that.

Sansa gasped, causing Olenna to look at her, concerned.

"Are you quite alright, dear?" she asked.

Sansa nodded quickly, hating the attention she was now receiving. Nobody but the Old Lion and the Little Dove knew what was going on underneath the tablecloth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was short. I'm really busy at the moment and will hopefully be able to continue to update normally soon.
> 
> <3 Game_of_Wolves


End file.
